


Reticence

by kwunkwun



Category: EXILE (JPOP), Sandaime J Soul Brothers
Genre: Angst, M/M, No happy endings, Oneshot, Unrequited Love, major angst, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10595586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwunkwun/pseuds/kwunkwun
Summary: He made no sound, not because he could feel no pain, but because the agony in his heart overtook everything else. This agony, too, would soon be washed away, baptised by the flames.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from 'Unfair world', which as we know, inspires no happy stories.

He could already feel the heat of the flames on his bare skin. The pit of fire before him was a vibrant vermilion; cracking, spitting, roaring, like an caged and famished animal. He half expected the concrete steps to crumble away under his feet, for the heat was so great.

There were a hundred of his kind here in the stadium, here to watch his departure, here to witness his punishment. But they each wore white masks so that he could take no comfort or recognition from another face, whether it wore an expression of judgement, despise, or empathy. He saw this as an act of mercy.

Death, after all, could only be faced alone.

The fire licked at his body. His skin blistered, bubbled, broke, burned, and then the flames tore at his flesh, into his bones. He made no sound, not because he could feel no pain, but because the agony in his heart overtook everything else. This agony, too, would soon be washed away, baptised by the flames. Drawing in a shallow breath, looking toward the grey sky above, Ryuji descended the final steps, and let the fire consume him.

 

 

The autumn wind of the human world felt cold against his cheeks. Hiroomi stood on top of a cuboid sculpture at -Yayogi memorial park, the marble plaque told him -watching sparrows and pigeons bounce along the paved walkway in search of food. The garden was quiet on this Tuesday afternoon. An old man in a chequered beret and corduroy jacket poured over his newspaper at the adjacent bench.

Hiroomi had two humans to pick up today -a 36 year old businessman, and a 22 year old female sex worker. Purportedly in love for quite some time, they would plunge to their deaths from the top of a cheap hotel at forty-eight minutes past midnight.

Human relationships were dramatic, and their emotions, complicated. Some reapers respected this aspect of humans, others belittled them, others still, were envious. Hiroomi’s stance was indifference.

However, curiousity had yet again led him here today, twelve hours too early, to see a woman scheduled to die in three weeks pass through the garden. She was not particularly beautiful, and she dressed herself in bland clothes that fitted her poorly, but she wore her silky, long black hair straight and perfectly combed, and Hiroomi liked to watch her tuck it behind her ear whenever a breeze unsettled it.

Death was indiscriminate. It seized humans in the same way that the wind made leaves fall. Death could not be blamed for being cruel, because it was only a part of the natural cause of things.

 _Remember, there is a fine line between trying to understand humans and sympathising with them,_ their teacher had warned. _As a reaper, you must be impartial, and you must have respect._

Hiroomi silently reiterated this to himself as the woman’s familiar figure came into view.

She wore a shell pink wool scarf today, and carried a paper bag printed with a logo of a toy store. There was a subtle but perceptible joy to her face as she admired the gold leaves that were scattered over the rippling surface of the fountain.

He would follow her today, and find out that she lived in a small apartment above a massage parlour with her mute 11 year old sister.

 

 

“There are so many distractions in the human world. How do they manage to get things done?” Ryuji’s voice was quiet, as if in reverence. Hiroomi could barely hear him over the dense cacophony of traffic, chatter, and music. They sat with their feet dangling over a suspended LED billboard, overlooking the huge intersection outside Shibuya station.

“Some of them actually forget to eat and sleep if left to their own devices,” Hiroomi mused.

“Eating sounds fun.” Out of everything Ryuji had picked this to respond to, and Hiroomi couldn’t help but laugh.

“You would make one dysfunctional human.”

“That’s rude, Omi! You’d make a boring human, I’ll bet.”

Ryuji was honestly quite expressive for a reaper -his brows would periodically crease or rise towards his hairline during conversation or when he was deep in thought, and despite the grimness of their job a smile was never far from his lips.

There was something ephemeral about this image of Ryuji chittering away about trivial things while the fluorescent lights outlined his profile in shifting blues and reds. This was a paradox, for they could live for a hundred, if not a thousand years, and he had the sense that Ryuji had been around for much longer than he.

“What would you do if you were human?” he asked him.

Ryuji barely paused to consider the question before replying, “I’d like to work with human children, and make music.”

“I see that you’ve already put some thought into this.”

“Yes, I have.”

Ryuji’s smile was soft, and a little sad. Strangely, he did not ask him the same question in return.

Which was just as well, because he wouldn’t know how to answer.

 

 

She was hanging the laundry. The sleeves of her grey-blue linen shirt were rolled up to her elbows, revealing a pair of forearms that were faintly scarred from too many late hours spent working in the kitchen of multiple restaurants.

A child’s t-shirt, a sweater, a pleat skirt, some towels, and then undergarments and socks turned grey from too many unseparated washes. They all hung neatly over her tiny balcony in their humble and tired shades of monochrome, and she spent a while tugging at the shirt ends to make sure that everything would dry evenly.

After a while, she wrapped her fingers around the metal railing and peered out at the dank and narrow alleyway that her apartment overlooked. There was nothing to see, but still she looked, as if the scenery could somehow change if she wanted it enough. Her hair was swept into a loose ponytail, and her bared jawline, neck and shoulder looked white and frail in the sparse light.

In four days, she would die, and this city would not miss her.

She went back inside, but Hiroomi remained on the other side of the alley, watching her shadow move behind the screen door.

 

 

“Like I said, I’m fine, Ryuji.”

“Are you sure? But you haven’t been coming to the meetings -

“They’re not compulsory.”

“I know that. it’s just, you’ve always gone to them...”

“Why are you so concerned? it’s none of your business.”

He hadn’t meant to put so much bite into his words. Ryuji’s eyes widened for a second, and then he looked down, as if trying to hide the hurt on his face. It was so easy to hurt Ryuji that it was ridiculous, but there was no other way to make him drop the topic.

“Why have you been spending so much time in the human realm lately?”

His voice was so small, but he spoke like he already knew the answer.

Hiroomi felt some kind of disgusting, heavy and slimy thing crawl from the pit of his stomach up into his throat, choking him and making him see red.

“Have you been _following_ me?”

“Omi, please, listen. That woman is going to -

“Shut up.”

He watched Ryuji’s features contort, his shoulders sag. At this moment it felt good to hurt him, to see him so exposed. It made him feel powerful, like he could really do something to save that woman from her fate.

“Omi, are you ready to take responsibility for what you’re about to do?”

“Yes. And if you stop me, I won’t forgive you.”

“I understand.”

For the first and last time, he saw Ryuji cry.

Quietly, exquisitely, like snow falling on a frozen lake bed.

 

 

 

She ran blindly -sobbing, screaming, pushing over trash cans and gates and anything else that could earn her a few more precious seconds to escape.

Death was indiscriminate. Death was indiscriminate, but why her? Why not the men who were preying on her? He didn’t understand how Ryuji would want to be human, when they felt so much fear and so much pain, when they were capable of doing such cruel things to one another.

Hiroomi closed in on one of the men lagging behind, and as he lifted one arm towards his neck, the cold anger in his chest reassured him that he could bring swift death to this human without hesitation.

But a hand came around his wrist, and when he looked up, Ryuji was standing in his way, his face pale but determined.

“Ryuji! You -

He felt formless shackles lock around his four limbs, and then he was falling heavily to his knees. Struggle as he might, Ryuji was more powerful than he, and when he saw the gleam in Ryuji’s eyes, he knew that his will was even stronger.

“Ryuji! No! _No,_ let me go!”

“Omi. I’m so sorry.”

He came down on his knees before him, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders. Despite the adrenalin coursing through his veins he could feel the warmth of Ryuji’s body, and he fought desperately against them, these vulnerable, human sensations. The dirty, converging streets did not echo the scream that he released into the air, nor the curses that he flung as he watched Ryuji stand up to leave.

“I’m so sorry, Omi,” Ryuji said one more time, smiling so softly that he wanted to crush him and shatter him and grind him into the earth until there was nothing left.

“Goodbye.”

Ryuji’s palm touched his forehead, and then he saw black.

 

 

Hiroomi opened his eyes to a familiar ceiling -off white with small, swirling silver stars. He sat up abruptly, but fell back just as quickly, for his body felt like it was weighed down by a hundred stones. He tried again, slowly this time, and from the corner of his eye he saw Naoki walk into his bedroom.

“Naoki-san, what -what day is it?” his voice, too, seemed to have been squeezed out from fistfuls of sand.

“Ten days have passed since you were brought back here,” Naoki answered quietly as he pulled up a seat beside his bed.

“The -the wo-

Hiroomi held his tongue, not knowing how much Naoki already knew, but from the subtle change to Naoki’s features he surmised that the man already knew everything.

“The woman has passed.”

Hiroomi gripped the sheets, beginning to sneer, until Naoki added, “And along with her, four other men.”

“What?”

“A reaper took the life of a woman who was scheduled to die, but also the lives of four others, on his own accord.”

“What? Ryuji -what happened to him? Where is he?”

He reached out and took hold of Naoki’s forearm, and he seemed to feel it tremble under his fingers.

“The reaper in question is gone.”

“Gone?! What do you mean, _gone_?”

“He violated one of our most important laws and willingly paid the price.”

“Naoki-san, please, don’t speak in riddles. Where is Ryuji?”

Naoki looked down, his lips pale and drawn tight. He reached into his pocket, and handed him a small package wrapped in fine, sapphire silk. It weighed barely anything in his palm. Hiroomi slowly folded back the fabric, until he was left with a piece of bone that was barely bigger than a finger joint.

He could not grasp the significance of this item, until he looked back up to see the anguish on Naoki’s face.

“Naoki-san. Naoki-san, you’re joking, right? Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m sorry, Hiroomi-kun.”

“No. No, you’ve got to be joking. That sentence is too heavy isn’t it? Even for four humans -

“It wasn’t Ryuji-kun’s first offence. That is why they had no other choice. Please believe me, Hiroomi-kun, I did all I could to convince them otherwise -

“First offence? What do you mean, first offence?”

“Twenty years ago he took a soul from a human scheduled to die and resurrected him as a reaper.”

“He -what? Why?”

Naoki stood, and gently placed a hand upon his shoulder. It was warm, like that time when Ryuji had embraced him in the alleyway. These were such human feelings -the heat from another body, the memory of their touch, their voice, the way they smiled.

“Because he loved him.”

Naoki left him. The sunlight of the early afternoon whispered through the linen curtains, casting shadows on the floorboards, shadows that trembled and shifted and danced, as if things in this realm were also subject to the fragile, ephemeral, stupid, beautiful notions of time and seasons and emotions.

The bone in his hand gleamed, smooth and pale like a forgotten fragment of the moon.

Hiroomi held it, and tried to remember how to cry.

 

Fin.


End file.
